Summary: The threads of fate intertwine. One door opens, and another closes. A strange and disjointed dream portrays a terrifying impossibility.
"Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible."
― Lisa Kleypas
Chapter 8: An Open Door
Konohagakure no Sato - The night of Mito's wedding
The two men left the boisterous courtyard behind, wandering the cobbled main-streets until the noise of the celebration faded into a distant murmur. It had cooled outside once the sun set, the air now holding a slight but not unpleasant chill, and Michi was suddenly grateful for being made to dress in his warm formal-wear. The gentle heaviness of the ensemble gave him ease of mind for some reason, as well; it was not his usual prerogative to run off and chat with strangers, and even though a monk ought not to have caused the faintest trickle of unease, Michi couldn't help but feel something about Jigen was atypical of most monks.
He could sense it, in fact; though it did not necessarily feel like a bad kind of deviation, it was indescribable, and this alone was enough for his subconscious to remain somewhat alert. The man was such an excellent conversationalist, however, that Michi simply could not resist the entertainment provided by his company.
They wound up sitting on a wooden bench in view of the fieldstone walls surrounding the Uchiha compound, and Michi commented that the orange tulips seemed rather out of place and unbefitting of the clan, in his opinion.
"Well, the tulip symbolizes deep love, and more specifically, these variegated tulips represent 'beautiful eyes'," Jigen said, pointing out the streaks of red streaming from just above the sepals of the flowers. "They say that the sharingan is born out of extreme love - desire so immense as to become indistinguishable from hatred."
Michi laughed. "Oh? Pray tell me, just who are 'they' and why have they decided on such a conclusion?"
"Hmm," Jigen pursed his lips for a moment before breaking into an impish grin. "I suppose it is but a theory, proposed by the round-table of self-proclaimed scholars and poets that reside in my imagination."
"Hmph, I'd hoped for greater candor from a holy man," Michi retorted, though his tone was squiffy and not at all serious. "I suppose I just do not prefer tulips."
Jigen found great amusement in being referred to as a holy man. "And what would you have planted instead, Uzumaki-san?"
"Camellias, without question; a far superior bloom," Michi stated matter-of-factly. "White, pink, and red varieties, but preferably the majority would be pink."
"Interesting, I thought you might pick something less favorable for the Uchiha's flowerbeds. A weed, perhaps," Jigen joked.
Realizing his error, Michi hurriedly shook his head to dismiss the notion. "Ah, pardon me - I would never do such a kind service for those inglorious bastards. The camellias would be for my mother, as they are her favorite."
"I see. She is in attendance this evening, then?"
"No. I'm afraid she is no longer with us." Michi's voice fell in volume, the bereavement evident in his words.
"Forgive me for my presumption. I am sorry for your loss, Uzumaki-san."
Michi nodded, his now much more sober mind floating off to some unseen world. Jigen leaned further back against the bench, regarding the redhead thoughtfully. Then, he reached into the sleeves of his robe and procured a small bottle of shochu. Jigen held out his arm, offering the beverage to the young man beside him.
Glancing up in surprise, Michi hesitated - for it was not customary to be offered alcohol by a monk, let alone a stranger - but nonetheless he accepted, seeking permission first before taking a large swig from the container. A sputtering cough erupted from his throat as soon as the liquid went down, eliciting a low chuckle from its distributor.
"By the divines," Michi gasped, his face flushed from the burning ache making its way towards his stomach. "I appreciate the sentiment. However - and not to be rude - this drink is positively foul."
"I apologize, I should have warned you," Jigen said, though he was not at all sorry. "It is distilled by the monks of the Fire Temple monastery."
"One would think it was flavored with their besmirched linens," Michi remarked.
"I can neither confirm nor deny such allegations."
Stiffening in shock, Michi turned towards the monk with a look of sheer, existential horror upon his face. "Certainly you jest….forsooth?"
With a mirthful laugh, Jigen pulled his cowl down and secured it underneath his chin. "I do-" he retrieved the bottle and afforded himself a drink as well "-though it's true I've no idea what they put in the stuff. All I do know is that it's made from a strange yellow crop called 'corn'."
Greatly relieved by this revelation, Michi placed a hand to his chest and let loose a lengthy sigh. He took note of a strange, black, diamond-shaped marking - not unlike his sister's - on the other man's chin, but decided not to ask about it yet, lest he come across as being too improper and offend the monk.
"You're an apprentice of the hermits, then?" Michi asked.
Jigen shook his head. "Not quite. My erstwhile mentor belonged to the group, and for a time I trained within the monastery….but that feels part of another life."
Peering at his unexpected acquaintance, Michi glimpsed a strange emotion in Jigen's impossibly black eyes as he gazed up at the stars. He detected a hint of melancholy, nostalgia, and even some anger; but strangest of all was the evident homesickness, for traveling monks did not have homes or form such attachments. Michi thought the man to be quite peculiar and mysterious, but above all fascinating.
"How old are you, if I may ask?" Michi himself was still a young man at only nineteen, and Jigen appeared to be in his mid to late twenties; however, his words carried years akin to someone much older.
"Uzumaki-san, you would not believe me if I were to truthfully tell you," Jigen said, for once without a hint of unseriousness.
"I wouldn't be so sure. I've communed with entities older than the dirt beneath our sandals, and the moon overhead," Michi hummed.
For some reason he felt no qualms about discussing such clan matters with the man, secret as they may be. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or even some unacknowledged motivation. Regardless, Michi figured he'd need to divulge a little information in order to glean any in return. Upon mentioning the moon something flickered in Jigen's eyes, but it was gone too soon for Michi to try and decipher.
"Is that so?"
"Indeed," Michi said, tipping his head back to admire the constellations. "I am an Onmyouji, a temple sentry of our clan's Uzushio shrine. We guard the knowledge of the spirits of old, and make certain their powers remain in the obverse - the world in which they belong."
Narrowing his eyes by a small amount, Jigen became very pensive and stilled for a minute, seeming to be considering his next words carefully. His body language gave no indication of hesitation, though, and had not at any point in their conversation; almost as if Jigen were only pretending to show concern, an imitation of how a person would normally behave. Michi, as was becoming the pattern that evening, paid no mind to this apparent shallowness.
"There is a rumor I heard once, concerning the Uzumaki clan," Jigen began. "A flippant topic discussed between old, wizened men, in someplace far away from the Shinobi territories. Would you care to speak on the matter, if I were to relay their words to you?"
The question was mildly alarming to Michi, not because he minded being asked, but because his clan was very meticulous about keeping their private affairs private. So just how had a rumor about them weeded its way through a supposed 'far away land'? Then again, perhaps there was no truth to the rumor, he thought.
"I do not mind at all," Michi replied. "I should very much like to hear it."
Jigen nodded, shifting to cross one leg over the other before he spoke. "I was visiting a synagogue in the capital of an ancient land, far to the south of the desert region. The capital was a magnificent citadel, unlike anything found in this part of the world - I suppose the Kazahana castle in the Land of Snow would be the closest comparison for scale, though even it hardly compares to such splendors as I witnessed. Great temples and kasbahs made from sandstone, limestone, and marble, decorated with archways and vibrant mosaics in perfect symmetry, the streets alive with sprawling bazaars and exotic striped-beasts. Their culture was rich and their lives decadent, the complete opposite of how the Shinobi live. They have this style of kenjutsu that I've not seen anywhere else, a completely unique use of spiritual chakra and lyrical choreography, and the swordsmen are called 'sword singers'."
Michi nearly forgot the original question, enraptured by the imagery of such an exotic civilization, and found that he longed to see such things for himself.
"Anyhow, I was staying in the main synagogue - similar to a monastery - and convening with their scholars and rabbi to learn about their beliefs and meditation practices. They were discussing their religious doctrine, called the Zohar , and explaining different interpretations to me. At one point, the conversation drifted towards the more mystical aspects of their fables, and since I hailed from the lands of the Shinobi, one of the scholars decided to question me about the rumor he'd heard from a nomadic merchant."
The night had grown quiet and still around them, though the festivities were not yet over; the outside world had simply fallen victim to the mind's sensory adaptation, and the prolonged stimulus that was the music and laughter of the reception was silenced in order to pay better attention to the conversation at hand.
"He told me that the merchant spoke of an 'Uzumaki clan' with strange and otherworldly powers. According to the man, there was an island that had been hidden away by the clan in order to protect an ancient artifact of unfathomable power. He said that the artifact was a magical hammer, which could grant any wish made by the individual who wielded it. I told him I did not know of the island - of a Land of Wishes."
A chill ran down Michi's spine, accompanied by both confusion and foreboding. Impossible as it should have been, the island sounded an awful lot like the shrine island that Kodama inhabited - as in, the spirit connected to the Shikigami mask he himself was the guardian of. Perhaps it was the alcohol clouding his judgement and making him more excitable than he ought to be, but despite his reservations and duties as an Onmyouji, Michi desperately wanted to share his unforeseen personal connection to the rumor. What were the odds, he asked himself, that a chance encounter with an odd monk would become so relevant?
In his mind, at that moment, it seemed like a signal from the divines; like their meeting that night was no accident, but something fated.
"I have heard no such tales about a hammer of wishes. However-" Mich paused, allowing another flutter of anxiety to pass "-I believe there is some truth to the rumor. It just so happens that I am personally responsible for a shrine of very similar description."
Jigen uncrossed his legs, turning to face Michi with a look of exhilaration in his eyes that should have frightened the Uzumaki. It seemed as if some of Jigen's indecipherable aura had finally revealed itself, and for the first time that night Michi's subconscious sensory capabilities whirred to life as he caught a glimpse of the monk's chakra. Chakra which was seraphic, yet at the same time held a quality of profound darkness; but just before Michi would begin to feel overwhelmed by its presence, the sensation was gone - once again suppressed by its source.
The monk was likely fully aware of his slip up, but neither man mentioned the experience, and Jigen seemed unperturbed. They sat in silence for several minutes, gazes turned back to the stars, while each contemplated what to say to continue the conversation.
"What do you think of all this, Uzumaki-san?" Jigen asked.
"How do you mean?" Michi wasn't sure if he was asking about the rumor, or something else.
"The villages, the shinobi, the clans," he elaborated. "Perhaps I am speaking out of turn here, but I have the sense that you are not overly fond of these things."
In truth, the anger and resentment Michi harbored towards the shinobi clans was not something he had discussed outright with anyone before. Sure, he had hinted at it when talking with Mito, but not once did he explicitly outline his sentiments. He decided to reveal some of his own darkness, just as Jigen had by supposed accident. Michi reached for the neglected bottle of shochu, which had been placed on the ground near their feet. This time he did not cough so ferociously after downing the abhorrent liquid.
"The Uzumaki and Senju have been allied for quite some time," Michi started. "Nearly as long as the wars between the Uchiha and Senju have raged. We were sought out for our healing capabilities, of course, and overtime a bond developed between the clans. At least, that is how everyone pretends it to be."
He could feel his rage begin to flame anew, leaking out from his unconscious mind and into his immediate awareness. Michi clenched his fists to stymie the tremors agitating his muscles.
"For decades, the Senju have hired the most talented among those willing to join them on the battlefield as combat medics. Certain members of our clan possess a highly coveted kekkei genkai: a healing bite which can recover the injuries of any individual, including the Uzumaki who possesses it. However, employing this ability does not come without consequence, and each bite shortens the lifespan of the Uzumaki being bitten."
Jigen hummed thoughtfully. "Yes, I have heard of this once before."
"Due to the advantages of such a power, any Uzumaki who ventured into battle were at even greater risk than a common foot soldier, and more liable to be taken prisoner. Those unfortunate enough to find themselves in such a predicament do not survive to see the battle's end, often used to heal the enemy forces until they are dead and drained of all chakra."
"Take it as you will, but such cruelty does not surprise me in the least," Jigen commented.
"Indeed. Such is the way of conceited, greedy men. They seek only power, and do not care what price is paid so long as it is paid by someone else," Michi stated. "Even this marriage, to me, is nothing but a means for them to acquire our abilities, and strengthen their own offspring."
"Ah, so this union is the most current source of your disquietude, then?"
Michi took a moment to swallow another mouthful of the alcohol, ignoring the protests of his stomach and his better judgement. Besides, Jigen did not seem to care about conserving the stuff.
"No. It is but a small part of it," Michi said, his tone now more openly resentful. "My parents were medics during the war before this most recent conflict, when I was nine years old. So, ten years ago. The Uchiha launched a surprise attack on their camp in the dead of night, and many were killed. Among the casualties were Itama Senju, a son of the former Senju Clan Head, and both of my parents - who had been specifically targeted, along with the other medics."
Taking a deep breath, Michi tried to fight against the fresh wave of grief battering his senses. He would never forget that day, when Ashina had visited him and Mito in their home to tell them of what had happened. That mother and father would not be coming home. That the Uchiha had slain them like livestock, and they had died servicing the egos of brutish men. Well, those were not Ashina's words, but that is what Michi had thought about it all.
"My mother wanted to travel the world," Michi said, before Jigen could offer any hollow condolences. Which was a non-issue, because he did not want any. "It was something she dreamed of her whole life."
"What stopped her from doing so?" Jigen asked. "If you are aware, that is."
"Many things. Raising me and Mito, for one. But more so, she abandoned her dream in favor of clan life. Duty. Obligation to meet the demands of said loyalty. Uzumakis do not leave on their own, it is not something that has ever happened. My sister is the first to immigrate in over a hundred years, but even so, the opportunity was offered to her and not her own idea. In fact, it was offered to me as well."
Jigen was silent for a moment. "Did you ever wish to travel, Uzumaki-san?"
"I have, on occasion, fantasized about pursuing my mother's dream," Michi admitted. "To honor her. Perhaps even to avenge her in some way. To just up and leave, and abandon my responsibilities."
The idea of forsaking his clan felt unconscionable and thrilling at the same time. It was not something he'd never thought about, however, and recently he had thought of leaving quite often. Michi had always been an academic, and while he enjoyed his work most of the time, he did wish to be able to learn about other cultures, religions, chakra techniques, and especially the sciences - a field of study which was only in its infancy, yet fascinated him like nothing else ever had. Could he really forswear the trust placed in him as an Onmyouji, or even as a member of the community, though?
Michi was a bit surprised that his immediate answer was not a resounding 'no', but something more conflicted in nature. He wondered what would happen if he were to disappear, and how Mito might feel. Certainly he loved his dear sister, but unlike himself who had no other friends, Mito did have people to rely on. She had a family now.
His eyes flickered down and met with the monk's large black irises, which were steeped in a kind of seriousness and sincerity Michi had not yet witnessed from the man. Jigen opened his mouth to speak.
"Would you like to?"
ooooooo
Present - Konohagakure
Death. Arata could not stop thinking about death, as of late; something which was entirely her own fault, due to her insistence upon learning the kage bunshin technique. She thought about it when she conversed with others, when she looked up at the sky, when she laid awake in her bed. She thought about it now, staring at a piece of pork as it gradually browned, sizzling and popping over the heat of the coals that burned beneath the griddle. She'd especially thought about death after disposing of the hundreds of copies of herself that she made 'for fun, to test the limits of her abilities'.
Dying was not some foreign or abstract concept to her, even before learning the technique - after all, she had died on her first day in the village. So, it wasn't the shadow clones' collective memories of her own countless deaths that had Arata so disturbed; rather, it was the metaphysical implications of such an experience. The fleeting impermanence of life, of the unique and precious individuals she'd met, and how starkly it contrasted to her own lack of mortality. All things that she was previously aware of, but hadn't actually thought about in-depth.
Now that she was thinking about it, however, Arata was very perturbed by the prospect of any of these people dying on her watch. Especially considering that while her seal was intact, she wouldn't be able to resurrect them if they did die. She wondered if, in such an event, she would break the seal and risk the whole of humanity turning against her in order to save one or a few of them. It was unclear to her whether or not such an act would be worthwhile. Besides, she couldn't resurrect people she fancied forever; eventually they would have to grow old and die. Humans lived very short lives compared to her own kin.
The truth that Aratashiki would out-live them all was inevitable; that she would be alone in her youth while everyone else expired from age.
Somewhere outside of Arata's inner world, Sakura had become upset over something, and was now - along with her fist - making a beeline for the area of the restaurant where their male companions were gathered. Perhaps she was still upset about them 'crashing their girls' night', Arata thought, watching the homicidal kunoichi close-in on her targets.
Before the pink-haired ballistic missile could make contact with it's terrified would-be victims, however, the door to the restaurant flew open, and a green-clothed arm yanked Sakura backwards by the waist. Everyone exchanged concerned glances as they watched a very drunk Tsunade stumble around, pulling her student along with her before pushing Sakura back into the seat next to Ino. Shizune took up a position at the head of the table, apologizing for their intrusion while reaching for a pork jowl to shove into her mouth.
"What's going on here?" Tsunade asked, plopping herself down next to Arata.
"Oh, we were just having a girls get-together," Tenten replied.
"Well then, it's a good thing I showed up!"
"But Tsunade-sama, you're not really a girl anymore," Sakura pointed out. She was still very much pissed-off about whatever it was, but would have to punish the guys some other time.
"What, is it because of my chest?" Tsunade asked, groping her breasts for emphasis.
Hinata and Ino laughed, assuring her that it was not because of her legendary chest. Tsunade was unphased by the subtle insult, and reached for the sake to pour herself a generous drink.
"So, what's happening? Are you talking about your love lives?"
"No, but since everyone here except for Tenten is single, maybe we should be," Ino sighed.
"Hey, I told you all that Lee and I aren't a couple! We're just friends," Tenten stated defensively.
"Yeah, and I'm an immortal space-alien disguised as a human who came to earth in search of my cousin, and ended up impulsively sealing away my powers so I could live the normal life my father denied me in retaliation for my mother flinging herself into a black hole after giving birth to me," Arata commented, making sure to sound sarcastic.
That was oddly specific, the others thought; but they were too tipsy to care about her weird ramblings, and boy drama was way more important. Tsunade shot Arata a look, but whatever intention lied in doing so was not effectively communicated by the drunken hokage.
"You're not one to talk, Arata!"
"Yeah," Hinata added, "the tension between you and Neji is practically a visible cloud of stinking pheromones. I could see it a kilometer away even without the Byakugan."
So far, everyone seemed to be reacting well to Hinata's suddenly emboldened personality; in fact, her willingness to drink sake in public had been more shocking to the other women than her conspicuous paradigm shift. Arata playfully swatted Hinata while the rest of the table giggled in agreement. Tsunade, however, was not going to let her off so easily.
"Arata, I'm surprised! The way you acted when you got here - well, I thought you would have killed poor Neji by now," Tsunade said, a little too loudly.
"Uh, lady Tsunade, perhaps you should keep your voice-" Shizune tried to intervene while Arata's face started to heat up.
"Maybe you two are star-crossed lovers. Ahh, how romantic!" Tsunade squealed, resting her chin in her hand with a far-away look in her eyes.
"It isn't like that, Tsunade-sama," Arata forced out through gritted teeth. "Besides, ours is not a star you want to cross paths with," she added in a murmur to herself.
The Hokage smiled mischievously and chuckled, mercifully dropping the subject in favor of the next item on her mind's agenda. Reaching behind her back, she pulled a bunch of pink straws out of thin air - an action that baffled the others, who questioned where she'd been hiding them - and thrust them into the other women's faces.
"We're going to play the Princess Game!"
Shizune ripped the straws out of Tsunade's hands and yanked her upright by the collar of her coat.
"We most certainly are not, Lady Tsunade. We are going back to work!"
"Shizune, can she even work when she's that drunk?" Sakura asked, incredulous.
Hearing her comment, Tsunade let out a loud laugh. "Can I even work when I'm sober?"
Shizune shot the girls an apologetic look after slapping a hand over the unruly Hokage's mouth. She started dragging the older woman towards the door, who grumbled and complained the entire way, only halting her verbal remonstrances to wave goodbye to the bemused table of girls.
"That was...interesting," Ino finally spoke, once Tsunade and her assistant were outside.
Sakura face-palmed. "I swear she's a great sensei! She just happens to be a heavy drinker as well…"
Arata, whose face was gradually returning to its usual color, breathed out a sigh of relief. What was with everyone's incessant need to pin her and Neji together, she wondered. At times, it almost felt as if her life was being transposed with scenes from a bad romantic comedy. Sure, Neji was attractive, and sure, she teasingly flirted with him every now and then, but that didn't mean she actually wanted a non-platonic relationship with the man. Arata had no interest in being tied down, nor did she feel the need to be. There were far more important things for her to do than become someone's intergalactic love-interest. Not that she had any clue about real-world romance, anyway.
Tenten yawned, and the kunoichi followed suit, unanimously deciding to call it a night. The guys seemed to have had the same idea, and were loudly making their way outside of the restaurant. Hinata stood up first, a look of sheer determination on her face as she gazed down at her friends.
"This is it, ladies. I'm going to do it. I'm going to tell Naruto how I feel."
They all whooped and hollered in encouragement, excitedly following the energized woman out into the night to witness her confession. The men were standing around while arguing with Kiba and Shikamaru, who insisted upon having an after-party.
"C'mon Shikamaru, I've gotta be up early tomorrow, you know," Naruto complained.
"Noon isn't early, dumbass," Shikamaru retorted. "Try waking up at 10 a.m. every day, then come talk to me."
"Yeah," Kiba added, "I have to wake up at 9:30 to feed the dogs. Even on the weekends!"
Neji scoffed. "You're all children. My team is up at the crack of dawn for training every-"
"Ah, there it is," Shino sighed. He shoved a hand into his pocket, digging around for a moment before begrudgingly handing Choji several crumpled bills. "You win this time - only took him 30 seconds to start one-upping."
"What the hell, Shino, I'm not a one-upper!" Kiba exclaimed.
"Pipe down, it wasn't about you."
The argument was interrupted when Hinata marched up to the group and grabbed Naruto's shoulder, spinning him around to face her. She faltered for a moment, but ultimately steeled her nerves, and fixed the knuckle-headed ninja with an intense gaze.
"Naruto...I need to talk to you about something," Hinata said.
"Okay, sure thing," Naruto said, oblivious as ever. "Uh, you wanna just walk and talk?"
Hinata nodded, and Naruto looked back over his shoulder to wave at his group. "Later guys!"
"Good luck, Naruto," Sai called out. "Remember, it's not about the size of-"
He was abruptly cut off by Sakura, who'd finally gotten the chance to put her fist to flesh.
Arata watched the pair disappear down the dimly lit street, an odd feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She was happy for her friend, and hoped they would be good together - assuming Naruto accepted her confession - but for some reason, Arata couldn't shake the inclination that there was something uncanny about the situation. About Naruto and Hinata, that is; it was too perfect, so much so that she almost sensed a sort of obligation behind their bond once she made an intentional effort to read their emotions. The compulsion wasn't specific to either party, either. But alas, she knew that Hinata truly did care for Naruto, so Arata chalked up the weirdness to her own personal biases and lack of knowledge regarding any kind of romantic feelings or etiquette.
Rather than reading further into a situation that was none of her business - something she'd had an awful habit of doing lately - Arata dismissed her thoughts entirely. She said her goodbyes to the group, declining to attend the 'after party', and walked back to the Hyuga compound alongside Neji. He murmured something about suspecting that Naruto wouldn't be able to love Hinata the way that she wanted him to, but Arata only shrugged and reiterated aloud that it was none of their business. However, it was more so an effort to convince herself than it was to convince Neji.
ooooooo
ooooooo
The streetlamps hummed quietly as Naruto and Hinata walked down the empty street. Naruto could tell that Hinata was nervous about something, though he wasn't sure what. Deciding to give her some time to think on whatever it was, Naruto shoved his hands into his pockets and distracted himself by trying to count the gnats swarming one of the lampposts up ahead. It had always fascinated him, how the bugs seemed to be addicted to any source of light - suffocating them within a cloud of chitin-armored bodies - and he wondered why it was so. What about the light drew them in so vigorously, was it warmth? Energy? Fear of the dark?
He would have to ask Shino about it sometime, Naruto thought. But he would probably never remember to.
"I know you've been really busy since Pain attacked the village," Hinata said, jolting him out of his thoughts. "So we haven't gotten the chance to talk about what happened."
Naruto wracked his brain, trying to remember if there was anything he had promised to discuss with her. "Oh, right. No worries! We can totally talk about that now, you know," he said, laughing to hide the fact that he had no fucking idea what 'that' was referring to. "Let's talk about it!"
"You...already forgot, didn't you," Hinata sighed.
"What? Of course not," Naruto stammered. "I'll remember as soon as you tell me-"
"I love you, Naruto."
His feet halted, frozen in shock as realization dawned on him. Hinata had confessed to him during the attack, when she'd put her life on the line to try and save him - that was what she wanted to talk about. Because Naruto hadn't ever addressed her words. They'd literally slipped to the back of his mind. Oh god, he thought, I'm such an asshole. What had he ever even done to deserve those affections from her anyways? He wondered.
"Oh."
"I want us to be together," she continued, "but you never responded to what I said that day. I just- I want to know if I'm wasting my time."
Feeling a little trapped, Naruto said the first thing that came to mind that could stall the conversation. "But why? Why do you think you...love me and stuff, Hinata?"
They had both stopped just out of the light's reach, standing side-by-side in the shadows. Hinata turned to face him, and her pale lavender eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight. When Naruto searched them for any sign of questioning or doubt, he found none. It dawned on him then that Hinata was the first person to say that they loved him, in any aspect of the word.
"Because you stood up for me when no one else ever had. You always keep trying no matter how difficult things get, and you don't let imperfections get in your way. You don't let other people tell you how to feel or act, especially when it goes against what you know is right. You care about everyone, even those who don't afford you the same level of grace. You never give up and you never go back on your word," Hinata said in a stable voice, full of a confidence he didn't know she possessed.
"Whenever I'm around you, Naruto, I want to be better. I am better, because of you, and so...I want to be by your side, for as long as I can be. I want to give you the love you deserve, and to be someone you can rely on, too, instead of always having to rely on yourself."
"Hinata…" Naruto trailed off, unsure of how to respond. He didn't even know how he felt - certainty he cared deeply for Hinata, and he'd definitely noticed how pretty she was. But Naruto hadn't really had time to think about relationships that weren't, well, platonic. It just wasn't on his radar, and hadn't been for several years.
Naruto wasn't sure that he would be able to recognize romantic love if he did feel it, anyways. Back when they were kids, he'd been infatuated with Sakura, but it was just that: infatuation. That much he knew for sure. The way he felt about Hinata as a woman was different from how he felt towards Sakura, then and now, but Naruto still couldn't call it love. Attraction, maybe.
Thinking about it all was giving him a headache.
"Listen, I don't expect you to feel the same way. Not right now, at least," Hinata whispered. "But I hope you're willing to give me a chance."
Was this how it happened? Naruto wanted to ask; is this what it was like to start a relationship? Did people just...go for it, like placing a bet in a game of poker? That seemed like a weird strategy to him, and it started to make sense why Ino and Kiba complained so often about dating. But Naruto couldn't think of an alternative, or anything that he stood to lose by agreeing to be in a relationship with her. It made sense for them to end up together; he couldn't reasonably imagine anyone else at the moment, when he thought about it.
Maybe that's how things are supposed to be, Naruto thought. You're supposed to settle down with whoever makes sense, with the most practical option. That must be the key to starting a family or whatever. Not that they'd be doing that just yet, though; maybe he was getting a little bit ahead of himself there.
"Yeah, okay," Naruto said, after a moment of silence.
Hesitantly, he shifted his gaze to meet Hinata's, facing his body towards her as well. Naruto saw her eyes light up with surprise and excitement when he agreed, which made him feel sort of bad for not expressing better the fact that he did care about her. Hinata's lips parted slightly as if she were going to say something, but she never did. Naruto didn't know what they were supposed to do now; in Icha Icha, this was usually the part where the couple was supposed to kiss.
He hadn't ever kissed anyone. Well, anyone other than Sasuke - which Naruto did count as a kiss, secretly. If he could master the rasengan and defeat highly-skilled enemies, then surely he could figure out how to kiss someone too, Naruto thought. And so, he went for it.
At first, Hinata jumped in shock; but she didn't pull away, and eventually they both relaxed enough to properly get into it. Naruto found the sensation to be just as strange as he remembered, but not altogether unpleasant. In fact, with each passing second it was becoming more enjoyable, and after several long moments they had broken apart to stare at each other breathlessly.
Perhaps this was something he could get used to. After all, his late sensei had certainly implied that relationships carried many great physical benefits, at the very least.
Hinata was redder than a tomato, but she hadn't passed out or anything like Naruto half-expected her to. "Um, Naruto, can I-" her voice caught in her throat for a second, a hint of that old nervousness peeping through "-stay with you tonight? Before you have to leave tomorrow…"
Man, he thought, Hinata was full of surprises. "If you're sure that's what you want, then y-"
"It is."
Naruto blinked a few times, utterly flabbergasted. Part of him felt that it was too much too fast, and yet he couldn't bring himself to refuse the potential outcomes of her spending the night. So he gave Hinata his best smile, grabbed her hand, and acted as normal and gentlemanly as was possible for the man to during their journey back to his apartment.
ooooooo
ooooooo
Aratashiki pushed herself up off of the ground. Her limbs were sore, dried streaks of blood from already healed cuts littering her pale skin. A heavy fog hung over her mind, as if her neurons were over-saturated with melatonin. Puffs of air escaped her lips in ragged, uneven breaths, crystallizing as soon as they made contact with the open air. Something was off. The temperature was undoubtedly high, she could sense the intense vibrations of the molecules in the air, buzzing with an extreme amount of kinetic energy. But...there were too few of them. It was as if the troposphere had been stretched thin, the majority of the particulate matter sucked out of it. There were simply too few molecules to transfer any of the thermal energy to her skin. If she'd possessed human biology, she would have already become hypothermic.
Her eyes gradually focused on her surroundings. The scene around her was pure chaos. Cyan chakra - her own chakra - coated the people near her like a protective blanket, except she struggled to make out who exactly it was that she was cloaking. It was like her brain refused to acknowledge their identities, even while clearly seeing their faces. Eventually she noticed that it was raining. No, this wasn't rain. It was a torrential downpour, but of what? Something hard but lacking in tensile strength, as it splintered upon impact with the ground.
Wood, it was raining wood. Why? She couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to a hunched over figure on the ground. Someone familiar, someone hurt, their chakra had been dangerously depleted...who was it? Frustrated, she tried to take a step towards them, and found that she was now unable to move. Only her eyes were allowed to wander. She watched as the...material continued to pour down, staking into the dirt whenever it didn't shatter on impact. Everyone seemed to be fighting them off, trying not to get hit.
Still watching the individual on the ground, her eyes began to track the trajectory of two much larger stakes of wood in her peripheral field of view, instantaneously calculating their point of impact, which was the injured person. They were going to die, undoubtedly; the stakes would impale them. Rip them apart. She struggled violently against whatever was preventing her movements, but to no avail. The tenketsu points all throughout her body were burning white hot, her chakra fighting for release. Release that wasn't possible, for some unknown reason. All she could do was watch as someone she was certain was a friend met their untimely end.
Time was moving in slow motion, her chest already tightening in anticipation of the impact. It was as if the universe was purposefully stretching out this moment, prolonging it to try and torture her. A second figure in a long, black cloak appeared in the blink of an eye, positioned behind the crumpled body to block the aerial attack. The coil in her chest tightened, she knew this person too. They stood with their arms thrust out protectively to either side like a shield. A human shield, a shield made of meat that was moments from being skewered. The cloaked individual attempted to perform some kind of jutsu - evidenced by a brief flicker of what must have been a protective barrier - before gasping in frustration and clawing at their eyes.
At the very last second, a third figure appeared out of nowhere, behind the second and mimicking their stance with a much taller, longer physique. Something flashed in her mind then, some emotion so intense that it nearly fried her neural pathways and obliterated the white matter woven into the connective tissue. In that instance she knew that she cared immensely for the unidentified persons in front of her. Loved ones. Family, but not by blood. Finally, it happened; her worst fear, an inevitable outcome.
No amount of dreamworld distortion could prevent Aratashiki from recognizing the one who stood before her now. Violence and hatred erupted like a wildfire in her veins, her mind's eye thrashing madly in a vain attempt to coerce her body into compliance with the desired movements. A pair of cold gazes met her own, monstrous and teeming with amusement at the suffering they caused. Seeing him filled her with an agonizing sense of loss that she could not comprehend, knowing that it could not be grief for him . Never. But the one at his side was screened from her view, present but indistinguishable.
What have you become , she wanted to scream, what have you taken?
The wooden projectiles hit the target in their path. She watched as it tore through their flesh like it was nothing, piercing their back and exiting through the chest, bringing with it bits and pieces of their destroyed entrails. Blood and tissue covered the sharp points sticking out of their upper body, sliding off and falling onto the ground and the back of the smaller figure like in a shower of gore. Her vocal cords strained ferociously against her paralysis, an unbearable tightness behind her sternum exploding in an agonizing shock wave. Tears were pouring from her bloodshot eyes. She couldn't think, only able to focus on the ruined person in front of her.
By some miracle they were still standing, but that didn't last. They collapsed in a heap, ragged breaths tearing from their lips as their lungs choked around the sticks. The color from their face was nonexistent, drained along with the blood pouring from the wound and gurgling in their throat. They didn't have long. The dying person's lips were moving, she was desperate to hear their words. Both listeners were sobbing. Loud, anguished, almost inhuman sounds. This couldn't be real. This wasn't supposed to happen. He didn't have powers like this, not before.
Aratashiki tried to warn the cloaked figure. She could not. He cut them down with swift precision and a ferocious laugh before doing the same to the friend who'd initially needed protection.
I must thank you for sacrificing your child - I'll be sure to give the village your regards before we slaughter the rest of you vulgar creatures.
A final, shaky breath squeezed out of the last one of the trio, and then all three were still. Cold, lifeless corpses. Reduced from a living being to a pile of meat and bone in less than a minute. An entire existence ended just like that. Powerful combatants defeated by him like they were nothing. Her gaze fixated upon their eyes, wide open and sightless, staring up at the sky. The face of death on each of them, peering into the infinite nothingness that awaited the arrival of their souls.
The obscured individual next to him suddenly jumped to the forefront of her awareness. I could not have imagined doing this back then, they said, and Aratashiki felt the words on her tongue. They were her own words, spoken by a version of herself that should not have been possible. Someone older and detached from feeling.
There was no sound, no sensation, nothing existed beyond her silent screams echoing mutely within an endless pit of despair and devastation. Horror. Dimensional space collapsed into one flat line of melancholia. The overwhelming, crushing reality of the situation made its presence known. Nothing else did, or ever would matter again. She had been corrupted. When? How?
He smiled at her - the other her - and she watched her lips stretch to return the sentiment.
You've made the right decision, sister; do not fret. They are better off this way.
Aiat, she responded, meeting eyes with herself.
She was just like them.
Aratashiki woke up screaming.
ooooooo
ooooooo
AN: This chapter is a roller coaster, I'm sure. Jigen is a sociopath, and poor Michi is too drunk to notice. Oh, the things that will become of him...
I hope I portrayed the, ah, weirdness of NaruHina well. It's just the set up, of course, but I meant it when I said I wanted to explore a more realistic version of the canon relationships. However, don't think that it will ALL be bad - their relationship isn't going to be completely horrible or anything, I'm simply acknowledging certain aspects of them/the fact that it isn't all sunshine and rainbows and isn't always healthy. NO relationships, even the great ones, are perfect.